Intervals
by twistyorange
Summary: Ten randomly generated words, ten drabbles, one chapter.
1. Ten

**hack**

* * *

Dib gave a cry of delight as he broke through the last firewall in Zim's security system.

**gear**

* * *

Somewhere on this planet had to be something to fix his blasted SIR unit. There had to be.

**tailored**

* * *

Zim hovered across the Massive's halls, his new Tallest robes grazing the floors just ever so slightly.

**litter**

* * *

He could never understand why GIR would bring home all sorts of garbage in his head. He even found something dead in there once.

**shopping**

* * *

The Irken cackled with glee as the boy approached the video store. Dib's expression would be PRICELESS as he dangled the last EVER copy of the now-defunct Mysterious Mysteries over his puny HYOOMAN face.

**grasp**

* * *

As his fingers closed around it, Zim wondered why the strange lock of hair on his human's head felt so much like the antenna on his own.

**rush**

* * *

"DON'T YOU DARE DIE ON ME."

Spider legs sped as quickly as they could through the rubble of the Membrane home before it was too late.

**ink**

* * *

Dib rubbed the back of his neck. It hurt like hell, but he was happy to finally be marked Irken property.

**ship**

* * *

Dib smiled as he passed Mars. The cruiser had been running smoothly ever since lift-off. Space was truly amazing, even more so when you got there by single-handedly reverse engineering broken alien technology.

**task**

* * *

He was a trained soldier - AN INVADER! He certainly wasn't about to let a mere boy disrupt his mission!

...

* * *

_My attention span is unfortunately too short to write full fics, but I've always wanted to write something for this fandom. Thank god for Random Word Generators!_

_I do not own Invader Zim and all other commercial entities mentioned in this work._


	2. Twenty

**channel**

* * *

Why in Tallest's name did the robot always have to flip back to the Scary Monkey Show?

**acid **

* * *

He knew human mouths were corrosive, but that didn't stop him from fooling around with Dib's.

**book **

* * *

Zim slipped the thick, black book into his PAK. Figuring out how a silly vampire story could make its readers so bloodthirsty could prove useful for his mission.

**proportional**

* * *

"ARGH! Stop biting my hair, Zim!"

Having only one thing sticking out from one's head was not proportional, but the Irken loved it anyway.

**smooth**

* * *

Zim's hands ghosted possessively over the scarred, pale flesh. Dib's back used to be so smooth, but that was before the Irken claimed him.

**doubt **

* * *

"Sssh. It's okay, Zim. It'll work. I KNOW it will."

**thief **

* * *

She stole his planet, his base, HIS Dib. There would be hell to pay.

**sixth **

* * *

They disconnected his transmission five times before they finally thought of humoring him.

**liquor**

* * *

He smirked as his new bedmate groaned. Inebriated hyoomuns were disgusting, but also very compliant.

**necessity **

* * *

Before Zim pushed the button, he thought it necessary to explain the situation. His companion of many years deserved that much.

"Your malfunctions have become a liability to the mission, GIR. Goodbye."

* * *

_Twilight isn't mine either._


	3. Thirty

**swearing**

* * *

Zim thrust harder. Yet another string of expletives streamed out of his lover. It was interesting how human curses could take on different meanings depending on the activity.

**sandwich**

* * *

The robot was completely useless for surveillance, but at least it could make a mean PB&J.

**dozen **

* * *

Twelve puny technicians were all that was left of the Massive's crew. He could dispose of them easily.

**wiring**

* * *

Fixing Zim's PAK was harder than he thought. He wasn't expecting THAT MUCH circuitry in there.

**upsetting**

* * *

He threw his tools to the ground, still unable to make progress. The alien didn't have much time left.

**pet **

* * *

Green fingers stroked his sides comfortingly, gratefully, teasingly.

"Zim would have fixed himself much faster than you did."

"You were unconscious. How were you supposed to fix yourself?"

"BAH! Details."

**porter**

* * *

"Please tell me Irkens have developed shrinking technology. I'm tired of carrying all this shit from home!"

**brief **

* * *

Dib was still gasping for breath when Zim took him under the covers for round two. Green bastard wasn't kidding when he said Irkens sprang back quickly.

**infallible**

* * *

All defectives had to be exterminated. It was the rule, and yet here he was, defying it.

**counseling **

* * *

Fat lot of good Dwicky did him. Not only did he lose his one chance at a normal life, he also lost a perfectly good piece of recording equipment.


	4. Forty

**enchanted **

* * *

"Lies! This Magic Kingdom of yours contains no magic at all! And that oversized mouse is HORRIFYING!"

**suspicious **

* * *

Why was the Dib-thing smiling at him dreamily from across the classroom?

**throne **

* * *

Red and Purple were thrown into the large chamber none too graciously. They knew the room well.

They sat there not too long ago, feasting on donuts, without a care in the world.

They knew the room well, but that was before the revolution.

**radiator **

* * *

"Zim is sorry for your loss and hopes you accept this replacement."

"Car keys?"

A gloved finger gestured to the deep blue sedan parked across the street.

"Zim, WHAT have you done with MY car?"

"My SIR unit has unfortunately developed... relations with your vehicle. I advise you not to look in your garage, for your inferior human sanity's sake."

**idiot **

* * *

"YOU KNEW PERFECTLY WELL WHAT I WAS GETTING INTO! Why couldn't you wait like I told you to?"

Those who had bothered to attend the funeral simply ignored the kid with the skin condition as he punched the gravestone.

**explosive **

* * *

Zim nonchalantly went through the airport scanner and allowed security to search his person and his carry-on "backpack", which he couldn't remove for "health reasons". The medical certificate he presented to them said so, after all. Smiling, he joined Dib in the waiting area and squeezed the purple moose toy he held all too knowingly.

**covers**

* * *

Dib thought Irken bedsheets felt exactly like silk, even though he knew they were entirely something else.

**flavoring **

* * *

_smack, smack _

The couch sagged slightly as the strangely gloveless Irken sat down. "Zim has a flavor."

"You haven't injected yourself with bologna DNA again, have you?"

_ smack _

Was the alien sucking on his fingers?

"Of course not, Dib-stink." The couch creaked audibly as the Irken moved closer. "Here, TASTE!"

Forty two rounds of toothpaste later, Dib still couldn't get the taste of metallic broccoli out of his mouth.

**hairdresser **

* * *

Dib took one look at Zim's goofy toupee and politely declined the (unusually generous) offer to style his hair. He figured he could wear hats until his scythe lock grew back properly.

**mainstay **

* * *

Zim had gotten pretty used to Dib coming over every day, even though all the boy really ever did was try to sneak into his base.

* * *

_I did this set the old school way. The power went out,so I grabbed a dictionary and flipped through the pages until I had my ten words. I think Zim was pretty OOC in this batch._


	5. Fifty

**marketing**

* * *

With 16 120 stores in 49 countries, and with the average drinker consuming 3.4 cups a day, Zim decided that taking over the world using a smelly human coffee chain would be a very good plan indeed.

**attendance **

* * *

As he delivered the last lines of his speech, Dib attempted to make eye contact with each and every one of his fellow MIT graduates. He never expected to see a green head watching him in the audience.

**terrorist **

* * *

The thin, bespectacled boy and his friend with the unfortunate skin condition sit at the coffee shop, enjoying two lattes. They leave as soon as they finish. Something seems to have been left behind - a tiny, purple moose.

Seconds later, the city is engulfed in a mushroom cloud and a roundish craft is seen zooming out of the destruction.

**crash **

* * *

The cows chewed their cud lazily. It wasn't like they hadn't seen alien spaceships falling from the sky and exploding onto their lovely, lovely grass before. This one unfortunately burned their best patch of grass, but as long as no one was getting abducted, they were fine.

**guide **

* * *

"You do know cows can't give us directions, right?"

**construct **

* * *

He had to hand it to Zim, converting the piles of cow manure lying around into fuel was a stroke of genius. Using the same shit (literally) as "superior Irken shipbuilding adhesive" was most definitely not.

**birth **

* * *

Zim would never admit that he actually liked this particular Earth custom. Liking the enemy's primitive rituals was a sign of WEAKNESS! But oh, what a delicious form of weakness it was! He figured he could postpone the mission until he finished eating the Dib-thing's celebratory birth cake.

**experience **

* * *

Dib knew well enough not to cross an angry alien pointing a laser at him, but he did anyway.

**troop **

* * *

Tomorrow he, the AMAZING ZIM, would lead his army to fight the Dibworm in the most epically epic showdown yet! The Dib didn't need to know that his "army" only consisted of GIR and a pack of rabid squirrels.

**here **

* * *

"So your mission was all a lie?"

Eyes glared at him, but antennae visibly drooped.

"Sorry about that, Zim."

The lipless mouth hardened into a line and quirked downward slowly, defeatedly.

"Where will you be staying now?"

...

* * *

_The statistics of _**_marketing _**_came from random Google searches, so they might not be very accurate. (Then again, this is fanfiction, so who cares about real life business accuracy?) It's also a rather shameless reference to a little thing I did on dA. If anyone's interested, searching for "Irken" and "Starbucks" should get you there.  
_**_terrorist_**_, _**_crash_**_, _**_guide _**_and _**_construct _**_are the sort-of sequels to _**_explosive _**_in the previous chapter. Hmm, there's an idea. Maybe if I can string enough prompts together, I'll be able to write a decent-sized story without quitting halfway through._


End file.
